Ignorance is the Curse of God
by Sevengoats
Summary: A couple from Philadelphia, contemplating a move to the Kentucky wilderness, visits the Boone's. Their inexperience with the native populations leads to a series of misunderstandings with dire consequences for a certain Cherokee warrior.
1. Chapter 1

"If this letter is correct, they should be here any day," Daniel Boone said setting the piece of paper on the kitchen table. "They should have arrived at Fort Potterville last week and made contact with a man bringing freight to Boonesborough shortly after. They may even be here by now."

His beautiful redhead wife frowned. "Saul Gorman? I don't think I remember him.

"They're close friends with Colonel Shaw and his wife. We met them briefly at the social the Shaw's threw in Philadelphia last August. According to this here letter, the Gorman's are coming to see if they want to settle in Kentuck."

Becky was stirring the pot of Irish stew she had set to boil. Philadelphia folk in the wilderness? She shook her head. They would never survive.

…..

When Dan entered Boonesborough, he went straight to see Cincinnatus. If anything was happening in the settlement, the tavern keeper would know.

"Cincinnatus, I'm expectin' some guests from Philadelphia," he said as he accepted a mug of ale. "I'd be grateful if you let me know when they get here."

The wiry tavern keeper grinned broadly. "Done and done, Dan'l. I think the folks you're lookin' for are sittin' at the table yonder," he said pointing to the far side of the room.

Dan glanced in that direction. It was a man and woman, probably in their mid-fifties. He could tell from their demeanor that they were out of their element. They alternated between staring at the table top and staring around at the other tavern patrons.

The frontiersman picked up his mug of ale and made his way toward the couple. "Mr. Gorman," Dan said extending his hand. "Mrs. Gorman. Good seein' you both again."

"Mr. Boone. I was becoming concerned that perhaps you had not received my letter," the other man said.

Daniel gave them his lopsided grin. "Yep, I got it. Just today as a matter a fact. You almost got here before it did."

The older man shook his head. "I am sorry, Mr. Boone. Can I take it that you will have time to show me the area or is there someone else you could recommend?

The woodsman shook head. "I'd be proud to show you my neck of the woods. Tell you what, why don't you and the Missus get a room here at Cincinnatus' for now. That will give you time to rest up from your trip. Then I'll come back later this afternoon and you can have dinner with me and my family tonight."

"We'll look foreword to it. Thank you, Mr. Boone."

"Dan," the tall man corrected. "We're simple folk here. I'll be back for you later today."

…..

"Daniel Boone," Becky scolded, with her hands on her hips. "I don't have anything prepared for guests from Philadelphia. All I have is Irish Stew and biscuits."

"Perfect," her husband said. "They've come out here to see what life on the frontier is like. They might as well see if for what it is."

The redhead sighed. "If you say so."

"Besides," Dan continued. "They've been on the road four days since leavin' Fort Potterville. I think one of your home cooked meals will really hit the spot."

…..

Five hours later, Saul and Esther Gorman from Philadelphia were seated at the table with Dan and Becky and their two children, Jemima and Israel.

"So how was your trip," Becky asked. She had made the journey from Boonesborough to Philadelphia a couple of times and knew that it could long and bumpy.

Saul's dark-haired wife shook her head. "It was rather pleasant until we arrived at Fort Potterville. It's such a pity. They have been having horrible difficulty with the native population."

Dan nodded, he had heard that Choctaw had been raiding and burning cabins in the area after a young brave was killed by a white settler.

"At Fort Potterville, we met up with the supply wagon driver heading south to Boonesborough," Esther continued. "When we were only a few miles out of town, we were surrounded by a band of the filthiest heathens I had ever seen. They made us get off the wagon; with their dirty hands they pawed through all the supplies and our luggage. One of them even stole an earring straight from my jewelry box." She shivered with the memory. "I wanted to turn back right then and there, but Saul insisted we continue."

"Do you ever have much trouble with the Indians here in this part of Kentucky?" Saul asked the tall woodsman.

Dan shrugged. "Sometimes. Most of the tribes don't really pay us no mind as long as we stay off their land. We've got a treaty with the Cherokee. It's the Shawnee that are not feelin' too friendly toward us right now."

"And you're not afraid?" Esther asked Becky. "Out here all by yourself?"

Becky smiled. "As Dan said, they generally don't come close to the settlement."

…..

As Mingo came over the crest of the hill, he noticed that the front door to the Boone cabin was open. Although that was often the case during the warm summer months, it always put the native on alert, especially if none of the family members were visible outside.

He quickly crossed the yard and silently stepped onto the porch, but relaxed when he heard Daniel's wife humming a familiar Irish tune.

"Rebecca," he called out from just outside the door, not wanting to startle her.

Becky instantly recognized the deep voice of their friend. "Come on in, Mingo."

With practiced ease, the Cherokee bent slightly before entering, assuring that the feathers adorning his head would clear the door jam and he propped his rifle against the wall.

Becky smiled as he leaned around the corner of the kitchen alcove where she was preparing dough for the apple pies she was planning for dessert that evening. "Dan's not here," she said, attempting to swipe a strand of coppery red hair from her eyes. In the process, she left a streak of white flour on her forehead. It reminded the Indian of war paint.

"Actually, it is your advice that I am seeking," the bemused Indian said with a grin.

"Really?" she asked, wiping the remaining flour onto her apron.

He nodded tentatively; his expressive eyebrows arching high on his forehead. "I have rather unexpectedly been invited to attend the wedding ceremony of Eli and Elizabeth Tupper's eldest daughter, Sarah, and would like to give an appropriate gift to the bride and groom."

The redhead could barely hide the joy that she felt at that moment. She knew this invitation meant a great deal to Mingo. He had been asked to be included in an event in the Boonesborough community; a rare opportunity to belong and to be accepted in his own right, rather than to be simply tolerated on the fringe because of his association with her husband.

She could only imagine the thoughts that ran through his mind at times like these. As a young man in England, he had been a member of the privileged elite. Here, he was often treated as if he were barely civilized. He was truly a man trapped between two worlds, but somehow he managed. And it was because of those circumstances that Becky felt him to be a kind of kindred spirit. She too had endured rejection due to the class system while an indentured servant.

"I see," she said, picking up the rolling pin to begin flattening out the pie crusts. "Do you have anything specific in mind?" She suspected that her friend had already put much thought into the gift and was merely looking for her approval.

Mingo shifted nervously a couple of times. Despite the fact that they were alone in the cabin, he took a few steps closer so that he could speak more quietly. "Well, I was considering an imported English bone-china serving bowl I saw in a shop in Salem." He held his arms out in front of him, hands about a foot apart. His long, slender fingers curved to replicate the size of the bowl he was describing.

At that precise moment, the Boone's Philadelphia visitors appeared at the open door. Daniel had sent them on to the cabin while he stayed behind to reconcile some business at the settlement.

Saul gasped as he saw the Indian standing with his arms outstretched toward Becky as if he intended to strangle her and her only defense was the rolling pin in her hand.

"Get away from her, you filthy savage!" he yelled, pointing his flintlock directly at Mingo.

The native started in response to the unexpected threat and quickly spun to face the door, accidentally knocking the rolling pin from Rebecca's hand.

…..

The explosion from the gun was incredibly loud inside the confines of the small cabin.

Mingo jerked as the rifle ball struck him in the chest and he staggered back a step before falling to the floor.

"Oh Dear God," Becky cried out as a prayer to the Almighty, not as a curse. She stared in shock at the man standing in her doorway, the rifle still smoking, and then toward the man writhing on the floor.

…..

The Cherokee rolled back and forth in pain, both hands clawing at the fire that had entered his body. Blood poured from between his fingers, soaking the sleeveless doeskin shirt he wore and dripping onto the floor.

Rebecca instantly knelt beside him and attempted to pull his hands away. "Mingo, let me look," she ordered sternly as she tried to assess the damage that had been done. He fought with her momentarily, but gave up the fight as he tried to draw a ragged breath. It sounded more like the gurgle of someone slowly drowning.

The dispassionate determination for survival required of women of the frontier suddenly kicked in. "Go to the fort," she barked at Saul. "Bring Dan and Cincinnatus. Tell them Mingo's been shot and its bad."

"Esther, help me here. I need you to put pressure on the wound to staunch the bleeding while I get the bandages."

"Move!" Becky shouted when her stunned guests continued to stand at the doorway.

…..

Saul turned to leave, but hesitated on the porch. He was reluctant to leave the two women alone in the cabin with that heathen. Still, the Indian appeared to have been severely incapacitated. Maybe he would be dead by the time they returned from the fort and the threat would be over. He stepped off the porch and started toward Boonesborough.

In the tavern, he spotted Daniel leaning with his back to the counter as the two men in front of him appeared to be pleading their side of the grievance that was between them. The frontiersman was acting as the arbitrator.

"Dan," Saul called out to get his attention. He rushed to stand beside the tall man. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you need to come home right away."

The woodsman took in the man's shocked expression and knew it was serious. "Trouble?" he asked as he took a step toward the door.

"Yes. Someone's been shot."

Dan stopped short and turned back to face his guest. "Shot?"

Saul nodded. "Some filthy, Indian. I arrived at the door just as he was attempting to…" he paused, not wanting to cause undue alarm. "Threaten, well, harm your wife. I warned him to back away, but he struck out at her. I did what I had to do to protect her and I shot him."

The frontiersman frowned deeply, trying to figure out who among the tribes would have such a hate against him that they would risk hurting Becky in their own home.

Suddenly his guest's voice quickly took on a note of urgency, "The women! They are still alone in the house with him lying there. Your wife knew the savage by name and sent me to get you and the tavern keeper."

Daniel felt the color drain from his face and a knot form in the pit of his stomach. He had done his best to protect his family from the most dangerous of the natives, by intentionally not mentioning them. The details of the situation certainly didn't seem quite right, but if Becky knew the name and had been willing to send Saul to get help; it was someone she was acquainted with and he guessed it was someone they knew well.

"Cincinnatus," he shouted to the man behind the bar. "Grab your kit. I think Mingo's been shot."


	2. Chapter 2

Lost in thought, Daniel slowly stoked the fire with the poker and then returned it to its holder. The evening was proving to still be quite warm, but the wounded man lying in their bed was shivering as if it were the dead of winter.

"Again, I apologize," Saul said as he came to stand next to the tall woodsman. "I didn't know… I heard stories about the ruthless natives and with what happened in Fort Potterville. I thought.."

Daniel raised his hand in acceptance of the man's apology. He was sure Saul truly believed he had acted in defense of his wife and he knew he should be grateful of the intent. However, that didn't change the fact that his friend was currently fighting for his life.

"Well, it's not as bad as it could be," Cincinnatus said as he pulled the curtain that sectioned off the Boone's bedroom from the rest of the cabin. "But it sure ain't good either."

The wiry tavern keeper was the closest thing that Boonesborough had to a doctor. "Only good thing is that the ball passed straight through. More 'an likely hit the lung considerin' how he's breathin', but at least he still is. Next few hours will tell. Knowin' Mingo, he'll pull through just so he can tell me in his highfalutin talk what I did wrong. That Injun's got more lives than a barn full of cats."

The older man laid a hand on Daniel's arm, saying that he needed to return to the fort, but promised to return later that night. Saul said he would accompany him. Esther had been escorted back to Boonesborough earlier in the day, in shock from the events that had unfolded. With all that had happened, it was decided that maybe the Gorman's might be more comfortable in the quiet of Cincinnatus' establishment.

Dan followed them both out on the porch. "Get a good night's rest," he said to Saul. "In the mornin' you and me are headin' to Cherokee country to let their chief know."

The man from Philadelphia whirled to face him. "Cherokee country? What for? I thought this man said the Indian would probably live."

The woodsman shook his head. "Right now, it really don't matter what happens with Mingo. The Cherokee are going to be mad no matter what. You shot someone from their tribe and they need to know it was an accident. If they find out some other way than us explainin', they're liable to come a callin' with scalpin' in mind."

Saul swallowed hard. "I thought you said they were friendly."

"They usually are," Dan replied. "But they don't take kindly to one of their own bein' shot, no matter the circumstances."

While the frontiersman was still on the porch, his wife came around the corner carrying a bucket of water and a scrub brush. She pushed passed him without a word and began cleaning the floor where Mingo had fallen and his blood spilled.

"Becky," Dan called softly. "Leave it for later. You've had a rough day."

The redhead sat back on her knees defiantly. "It's already started to soak in," she said pointing to the bloody spot on the floor. "If I don't take care of it now, it will always be there."

Daniel sighed sadly, understanding her meaning. If Mingo didn't make it, there would forever be a marker on the wooden floor to remind them of this day.

…..

The copper-haired woman pulled the chair closer to the bed and held the wounded man's hand in her own. He had developed a high fever, as was expected, but as a result he became much more restless and agitated. He breathed in short pants, alternating with deep inhales that came with painful moans.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the native started to edge toward consciousness. He whispered to her in Cherokee, grasping her hand tightly, almost pleading with her, as if what he was saying was a matter of life and death.

"Mingo," she called softly. "I don't understand. Can you tell me in English?"

He mumbled something in Cherokee.

Becky sighed; she hated to wake her husband. He and Saul had a long day ahead of them, but she had no idea what their Indian friend was saying and no way of judging if he at all comprehended what had happened.

"Dan," she said softly, shaking his shoulders. He woke with a start and instinctively reached for the long knife in his boot.

"Becky," he replied, his voice hoarse with sleep. "Mingo?"

She smiled reassuringly. "He's starting to come around, but he's not speaking English. I was hoping you could tell me what he's saying."

Dan rubbed the sleep from his eyes and followed her to their friend's bedside. The native continued to toss his head from side to side and babble in a language Becky could not understand. "What's he saying, Dan?" she asked apprehensively.

The frontiersman sat in the chair his wife had abandoned, listening carefully to the Cherokee's ramblings. He leaned in close, trying to communicate with the native with softly asked questions. After a while, he sat back in the chair and frowned as he turned toward his wife. "Most of it seems to be nonsense. He's talkin' about a bear lost in a cave, deep snow coverin' everything and a trip to the salt lick. I think he might be talkin' to his ma and maybe Menewa. He's also tryin' to warn someone that it is coming. I have no idea what 'it' is."

Suddenly Mingo's eyes opened wide. "Please, Father! No!" He called out, wincing in pain as he drew in a deep breath." I promise it won't happen again!" Then his eyes closed again and he fell silent.

Daniel and his wife exchanged a sad look. They both had had a brief encounter with Mingo's father during his stint as Governor of Virginia and the man had seemed surprisingly civil. However, they knew that something darker lay below the surface. By nature, Mingo seemed to possess a gentle soul, yet his English father brought out in him an anger that seemed wildly out of character. There was more than meets the eye, but the very private Cherokee refused to speak of it.

Half an hour passed and Mingo seemed to lapse back into unconsciousness. Dan returned to bed and Becky returned to the vigil beside their friend's bedside.

…..

At dawn, Daniel rose and prepared his pack for the half day trip to Chota. He was dreading this, knowing that Menewa would be furious with the white man, Saul. Especially since the life of one of the members of his clan still hung in the balance.

It was several hours before the frontiersman and his guest reached the main village of the Cherokee. They were about half mile out when the sentinels surrounded them. Saul tensed and moved closer to Daniel.

The frontiersman held out his hand to the other man in reassurance. "Don't worry," he said calmly. "All part of the process."

"We have come to council with Menewa," he said to one of the natives. The young brave nodded and turned toward the village. A moment later he returned and motioned for them to follow.

Menewa exited his lodge briefly and then ducked back inside, muttering something to the young brave. "The Chief will meet with you alone," the native said, pointing to Daniel. "He will remain with us," he continued, nodding his head toward Saul.

The older man stared at Daniel and then at the two braves standing on either side. "Dan?" he questioned nervously.

The woodsman smiled. "Nothin' to worry about, Saul. They're just gonna keep you company for a while. I shouldn't be too long."

Dan chuckled at the look of doubt on the man's face, and then sobered as he ducked into the Cherokee chief's lodge. "Menewa," he greeted the Indian seated cross-legged on the bearskin floor.

"Boone," he returned and held out the peace pipe; an invitation to sit and to council cordially. After the pipe had been passed, Menewa got down to business. "Why are you here?"

Dan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There's been an accident and Mingo's been hurt."

"How?" the older man asked.

"Well, he's been shot."

Menewa sat up straighter and arched his eyebrows. "Why?"

The frontiersman shifted; although the Indian seemed calm, Daniel could tell the chief was starting to get angry. "As I said, it was an accident. Someone who doesn't know Mingo thought he was going to hurt my wife."

"Mingo had a weapon on her?"

"Uh, well, no, not exactly."

"He was unarmed?"

This wasn't going as well as Dan had hoped. "He probably had his knife, maybe his tomahawk in his belt, but nothing in his hands, no."

Menewa started to grind his teeth. "So how does an unarmed man 'accidentally' get shot?"

Daniel decided that it was probably a rhetorical question and decided not reply.

"The man with you, he is responsible?" the Cherokee asked, pointing to the lodge entrance.

Dan nodded.

"Will Mingo live?"

"I hope so," the woodsman answered truthfully. "It happened yesterday afternoon. He made it through the night. He's strong and has survived things that should have killed him."

"Then know this, Boone," Menewa said, rising to his feet. "This 'accident' will be punished. If he survives, it will be Mingo's decision to make. If he does not, the decision is mine by right and that white man will pay with his own life."

Daniel nodded, but he knew he could not let that happen. He would spirit the man away to Salem and to the magistrate. That would surely end any friendly relations that he would have with the Cherokee and possibly put the settlement in danger, but it was the right thing to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Becky lowered the bucket into the well and started pulling it back to the surface. She was tired and had had a fairly productive day, but there was still much to do. The children had remained at the fort yesterday and were now staying with the Anderson's, hoping to spare them some of the trauma. Jemima and Israel were very fond of their Cherokee friend and his current condition would be frightening for them. However, it also meant that there was no one to help with the chores.

Cincinnatus had been to the cabin earlier and had said that Mingo was doing better. The wounds appeared to be healing and his fever had come down. He seemed to be breathing and resting easier, but was still in and out of consciousness from the pain.

So needless to say the redhead was more than a little shocked when she entered the cabin to find her patient standing a few feet from the bed. "Mingo! What in heaven's name are you doing up?"

He grabbed onto the back of the chair to steady himself. "A Cherokee warrior must rise the day after battle or he may never rise at all."

"So I've heard," she said curtly. "Well, you have risen, so get back in that bed right now or you may not rise again." She was more concerned than angry.

Even as she watched, he became more wobbly. He was shaking with the effort of standing and had started to pant. She could see that he was contemplating how he was going to make it back to the bed without falling flat on his face.

Becky set the bucket down and came to his side to help him. He sat down heavily on the bed and looked up at her with chagrin. "Perhaps I have somewhat overestimated my current physical abilities."

She smiled despite herself. "Perhaps. Well, let it be a lesson learned." She pulled back the quilt and helped him swing his legs up so that he could lie down.

"Do you think you could eat something?" Becky asked as she pulled the cover over him. "You haven't had anything in more than a day."

"I can try," he said, feeling the need to appease her.

She patted his shoulder. "Give me a few minutes to heat some broth."

The Indian closed his eyes, settling back into the pillows. "Rebecca?"

"Yes?" she answered from the kitchen area.

"What happened?"

Dan's wife stopped what she was doing and turned toward to their friend. "You don't remember?"

Mingo shook his head. "No, not really."

Becky sighed, not really wanting to remember the events of the previous day. "You were shot."

"That I gathered," he said with a nod. Unconsciously he rubbed the bandaged spot a few inches below his collar bone on the right side. "Who and why?"

"The man's name is Saul Gorman," she explained. "He and his wife are acquaintances from Philadelphia. They are thinking of moving to Boonesborough."

"And?"

Becky took a deep breath. "And it was a misunderstanding. He thought you were going to harm me."

"Did I appear so?" the Cherokee asked with a deep frown, fearing that maybe he was more unaware than he realized.

"No," she said quickly. "As I said, it was a misunderstanding. They had just left Dan at the fort and knew I was here alone. I think they were surprised to find an unfamiliar man in the cabin."

"An unfamiliar Indian, you mean," he corrected.

Becky grimaced at the accusation. "No, I don't think so Mingo. They are not accustomed to the wilderness. Things are different in the city."

He seemed unconvinced. "It seems to be a rather extreme reaction to an innocuous situation."

…..

"You ready to go?" Daniel asked Saul.

His guest nodded vigorously, looking at the two natives that had been guarding him. "They are not much for conversation."

The two men left the village with a couple of sentinels trailing behind them. When he was fairly certain that they were indeed alone, the older man turned to the tall woodsman. "Well, how did it go?"

"About like I thought," Dan answered honestly. "Menewa is not a happy man. They plan to exact Cherokee justice."

The other man started. "Cherokee justice? What does that mean?"

Dan sighed. "Pretty much how it sounds. The chief doesn't understand how one of his own can be shot on accident. He expects satisfaction."

"Satisfaction? What do they plan to do?"

The tall man shrugged. "According to Cherokee law, punishment will be decided by the injured party. It will be up to Mingo to decide what he thinks is fair." Considering the man's distress, he decided to leave out the part about what would happen if Mingo didn't survive.

The Philadelphian stared at him. "You can't be serious. You agree with this archaic logic?"

Dan shook his head. "I wouldn't worry. Mingo's usually a reasonable man."

"Usually?"

"Well, he does have a stubborn streak, depending on the situation," he replied. "But I reckon I can talk him out of anything too farfetched if he has a mind to head that way."

…..

Esther Gorman sighed with relief when she saw Dan's wife outside doing the laundry. She had become bored staying at the inn by herself and decided to walk to the Boone's cabin. "Mrs. Boone..Becky," she greeted.

The redhead looked up from scrubbing sheets on the washboard and smiled. "Esther, it's good to see you. I trust you are feeling better?"

The older woman nodded. "Yes, although I am worried about Saul. He and your husband have been gone for some time."

"Well it is a fair trek to the Cherokee village. I'm sure they will be back soon." Becky brushed her bangs from her forehead. "I was just about to take a break. Would you like some tea?"

Esther nodded. "That would be lovely," she said and then hesitated. "Is he still in there?"

The frontierswoman paused."He? Do you mean Mingo?"

The other woman nodded.

Rebecca sighed. "Yes. He's still too weak to get up, but he will probably be asleep so we won't disturb him."

Esther shook her head in disgust. "I thought your husband could have found other accommodations. I don't understand how you can stand to still have that heathen in your home. They are all dirty and ignorant."

Becky blanched, fighting to hold back the angry retort that popped into her head. "It's obvious you don't know Mingo," she said coldly. "He's a very cultured and highly educated man. Maybe you should get to know him before you make those kinds of judgments."

…..

Rebecca ran her hands across the sheets hanging on the line, satisfied that they were dry. As she pulled the first of the clips from the clothes line, she felt a familiar set of arms wrap around her waist.

"You sure are a welcome sight," Daniel said kissing the back of her neck.

The pioneer woman turned in his arms and pushed him away. "Dan," she said both delighted at his return and embarrassed at his outward display of affection. "What if someone would see?"

"And just who would see us out here?" he asked in a teasing voice. "In case you have forgotten, Rebecca Bryan Boone, we are in the middle off the wilderness. Who's here to care if I go kissin' my wife?"

She slapped him on the shoulder and kissed him in return.

"How's Mingo doin'?" he asked, momentarily putting his light mood aside.

"Better," she said with a smile.

"He been awake at all?"

His wife nodded."Several times today and at least once, long enough that I found him completely out of bed."

Daniel raised his eyebrows in question.

"Cincinnatus gave him a good tongue-lashing when he came by this afternoon," she chuckled.

"Well, maybe I'll see if he's awake now," the woodsman replied. "I got a couple things we need to discuss."

…..

When Saul returned to Boonesborough, he found his wife pacing in the courtyard in front of Cincinnatus' establishment.

"Oh thank goodness," the dark-haired woman replied when she saw him. "I was afraid that you weren't coming back."

Saul removed his tricorn hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "For a while I had doubts myself."

"Well, what happen?" Esther asked impatiently.

The man took his wife's arm and steered her toward the tavern. "Let's go inside. I could use an ale."

They picked a table in the corner and Cincinnatus brought him a mug of ale and his wife a cup of tea.

"So?" she prompted again. "What happened?"

"Boone took me to the village, but the chief wouldn't talk to me. He'd only speak with Boone. They left me in the middle of the camp with a couple of native guards." Saul sighed, "I don't exactly know what was said, but apparently the chief didn't care that the savage was shot by accident. He's demanding, as Boone put it, 'satisfaction.'"

"Satisfaction? How?" His wife was staring at him with disbelieve.

He threw his hands in the air in a gesture of frustration. "Something called Cherokee justice. Apparently the Indian that is injured gets to decide the punishment."

Esther gaped. "You can't be serious. Surely Boone isn't going to let that happen."

The Philadelphian ground his teeth. "That's exactly what he is going to do."

"Excuse me," said the man in buckskins who came up to the table. "Name's Will Taggert." He held out his hand.

"Saul Gorman," he said, shaking the stranger's hand. "My wife, Esther."

Taggert nodded his greeting to her, then turning back to Saul and said, "Don't mean to bother ya, but I heared ya nearly kilt Boone's Injun yesterday."

Gorman flinched. "I..I assure you it was an accident."

The other man laughed. "Don't rightly care if'n it was or not. There's more than one man in this room who's thought about doin' it for themselves. Sometimes that fancy talkin' half-breed don't know his place."

"I see," Saul said, clearing his throat. "Actually, my wife and I were just saying that we really don't know much about Indians. We've heard they can be barbaric, especially if they capture a white man, but cannot fathom what they would actually do."

Taggert nodded and sat at the table. "Their crafty, they are." He stopped. "Uh, maybe this ain't fit talk for your wife to hear."

Saul raised his hand. "It is fine. We are both quite interested." Esther nodded in agreement.

"Alright," Will said. "Well most of 'em do some manner of burnin' at the stake. Tie a man to a pole and light a fire all the way around and watch him burn up. But they got other ways too. They ain't above tossin' folk off a cliff or holdin'em under water 'til they drown. And…"

The couple must have had a shocked expression on their faces and Taggert stopped. Gorman nodded for him to continue.

"Another thing they do is stake a man down out in the woods, cut 'em or pour blood on 'em a wait for the animals to tear 'em apart," he grimaced. "They even sometimes stone a man, like in the Bible."

Saul nodded. "Very interesting." He pretended to stifle a yawn. "We thank you for enlightening us, Mr. Taggert, but if will excuse us, we have had a long day and would like to rest before the evening meal."

They rose from the table and headed up the stairs to their room.

"Did you hear what he said?" Esther whispered, grabbing he husband's arm. "They will torture you, if not kill you."

Gorman sighed. "Maybe it won't be that bad. Boone seemed to think he could talk the Indian out of anything too outlandish."

"And what if he can't?" she hissed. "You said that savage at the Boone cabin is the one who decides?"

He nodded.

"What happens if isn't alive to make that choice?"

Saul shook his head. "Cincinnatus seems to think he will survive."

Esther smiled. "Maybe that is the case right now, but who is to say that he might not take a turn for the worse."

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing, dear husband," she said patting his hand. "Simply speculating out loud."


	4. Chapter 4

Dan peeked around the curtain of the bedroom alcove. His friend appeared to be asleep, so he tiptoed in to sit in the nearby chair.

"Daniel," Mingo said with his eyes still closed. "As I have told you before, when an Indian moves that quietly into a camp, he usually is looking for an enemy scalp."

The frontiersman chuckled. "And as I told you, not bein' Indian, I'm not much interested in scalps." He shook his head. The last time they had had this conversation Mingo had been laid up after almost being whipped to death by his brother. "So how are you feelin'? I heard you got yourself in a little trouble with Becky and Cincinnatus."

Mingo smiled. "Merely testing the waters, Daniel."

"And?"

"The seas were a little rougher than I anticipated. I have felt better." he replied honestly, "but I am just as sure that I have felt worse. I will survive."

"Glad to hear you say that, Mingo." He paused. "I went to Chota today."

The Cherokee opened his eyes and turned toward his friend. "Chota? Why?"

"To talk to Menewa; to tell him about you," Dan said. "I didn't want him to hear about it from someone else."

Mingo nodded.

Dan cleared his throat. "I told him it was an accident. He was still pretty unhappy about you being shot."

"Well, that makes two of us," the native responded, shifting uncomfortably. The movements made him wince.

"Dan," Becky called. "Can you come and help me?"

"Duty calls," he said, rising from the chair. "We'll talk later."

Mingo's eyes were already closing.

…..

"What'cha need?" Dan asked his wife. She was standing in the space under the loft where the guest bed was situated.

"Help me hang this curtain," she said pointing to the rafters that were the base of the loft floor.

Dan looked at her with puzzlement and grabbed one end of the material. "What's this for?"

"Some privacy; to block off the bed from the rest of the cabin. I'd like to move Mingo in here before tonight," she whispered.

The woodsman frowned. "You think that's good idea? I don't mind sleeping out here."

"I'm not doing this for you or me," she said holding up the other end of the curtain for husband to hang.

"Eventually, Mingo's going to realize that he's putting us out of our bed. Then he's going to become concerned that he is being a bother, which will lead to him attempting something foolish, like moving into Israel's lean-to or walking back to his village. I'm just trying to plan ahead. If he's in here, none of the other arguments will hold water."

Dan stared at his wife, marveling at her innate intuition. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"You might have," the redheaded beauty teased. "But you can say it again."

The tall frontiersman leaned down and kissed her.

…..

Mingo bit his lip and held his breath to keep from crying out as Daniel helped him stand. All his muscles were stiff and sore from the lack of movement; in addition, the blood loss from the gunshot had left him weak and the injury to his lung made breathing both difficult and painful. He swayed for a moment and Dan gave him some time to steady himself.

"Alright, I'm ready," the native said with determination.

The tall man held his friend about the waist and allowed him to lean into his side. The Cherokee was breathing heavily by the time they were half way across the room. "You wanna stop for a minute?" he asked with concern.

Mingo shook his head. "No…. keep….going."

By the time they reached the guest bed, the Indian was sucking in air like a fish out of water. He plopped down heavily on the bed, wheezing badly. Dan glanced worriedly at his wife and she came to his side.

She sat on the bed beside their friend. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "A…moment…please. Still…hurts…to…breathe," he panted.

The Boones waited patiently as Mingo's breathing began to normalize. "Do you want to sit up or lie down," Becky asked, preparing to settle him into the bed.

He indicated that he wanted to sit for a while, but was asleep with his head on his chest in a matter of minutes.

…..

As Daniel opened his eyes, he noticed that the pre-dawn light was dimly filtering into the cabin. He yawned deeply and stretched his arms over his head. Glancing to his side, he saw his beautiful wife still soundly asleep. She had gone to bed exhausted from acting as both homemaker and caretaker, without compromise or complaint.

He rose as quietly as possible, doffing his nightshirt and pulling on his usual daytime attire. After stirring the fire, he prepared the coffee pot and put it to boil in the fire.

As he waited for the coffee to be ready, he decided to check on his friend and was surprised to find him awake.

"Mornin'," Dan greeted. "I've got the coffee on. You up to a cup?"

The Cherokee's eyebrows shot up in a familiar gesture and a playful grin graced his face as he chuckled. "Your coffee is risky on the best of days, but I am feeling ready for the challenge. Help me up."

The woodsman hesitated. "You sure? I'd be glad to bring it to you."

Mingo shook his head. "I'm tired of being an invalid. I want to get up."

After the native pulled himself slowly to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, Dan grasped his left arm and hauled him to his feet. When Mingo pushed him away, he turned back to tend the coffee. He knew the Indian was growing weary of being coddled and decided to let him do things his way.

His friend shuffled slowly to the high-back bench by the fire. Daniel's only concession was to pull the blanket from the guest bed and put it about his shoulders. "Becky would kill me if you took a chill," he explained.

Dan poured two cups of coffee and handed one to the Cherokee, who sniffed it before cautiously taking a sip. "Not too bad," he said with a smile. "Must be because it has come from Rebecca's pot."

The frontiersman gave him a lopsided grin. Mingo must be starting to feel better.

"What are your plans for the day, Daniel?"

"I'm gonna take Mr. Gorman on a little hunting trip," he said taking a swig from his cup. "He's come to Kentucky to see the land and maybe settle here. And I need to put some meat on the table or Becky's gonna have my hide. I figured this way I can do both."

"Watch your back," Mingo said, only half joking.

"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Daniel's wife inquired, exiting from their bedroom alcove fully dressed and ready for the day.

She stopped short when she saw the native sitting next to the fire. "Mingo. What are you doing out of bed?"

"It is not my fault, Rebecca. Daniel tempted me with coffee and I had no power to resist," he said innocently.

"Dan," the redhead scolded.

The woodsman realized that he had just been thrown under the wagon by his friend. "Whoa now. As I recall, I offered to bring it to you."

The Indian just grinned mischievously.

…..

Mingo had remained seated by the fire as Becky bustled about kitchen making preparations for the day. He had eaten half a slice of bread, but had refused anything more. The lack of activity had decreased his appetite. She had warned him that he needed to eat to get back his strength and would be fed small meals more frequently instead.

With some cajoling and promises not to overdo things, Mingo finally convinced his caretaker to let him wash up and put on his clothes. She had reluctantly agreed, but had traded his doeskin shirt for one of Daniel's that buttoned down the front to make it easier to change the bandages. After he restored his feathers to their usual place on the back of his head, he felt almost normal.

He had then returned to the settee with the book of short stories he had given Jemima last Christmas, determined not to let the fatigue he was feeling overtake him.

Becky eyed the Indian carefully and then grabbed the broom to begin sweeping the front porch. As she pushed the last of the dust off the edge, she spotted a figure coming down the trail from Boonesborough. It was Esther Gorman.

The redhead took a deep breath and asked the Almighty for patience. Their last meeting had ended in a less than civil manner. She stepped off the porch and walked toward the other woman.

"Mrs. Gorman," she greeted formally.

Esther nodded. "Mrs. Boone." She licked her lips as she built up her courage. "I've come to apologize for my remarks yesterday. You are correct; it is unfair of me to make generalized judgments about a man I have not met. So I have come to get to know…."

"Mingo," Becky supplied.

"Yes, of course, Mingo," the dark-haired woman continued. "That is if he is up to receiving visitors. And I'd also like to do what I can to help you around the house. To be honest, I'm getting rather bored just sitting around in my room at the inn."

Becky smiled and laid her hand on the woman's arm. "Apology accepted. I know this cannot have been easy on you or your husband. And I'm sure that Mingo would be glad to meet you both. He was awake the last time I checked."

The redhead led Esther to the cabin and inside. "Mingo," she called out to let him know she was back. "There is someone here who would like to meet you."

The lady from Philadelphia walked to stand in front of the settee where the Indian was sitting. "Esther Gorman," she said holding out her hand.

When he saw that it was a female, he struggled to stand as was proper in the presence of a lady, but she stopped him. "No, please don't get up."

He smiled. "Forgive me. My name is Caramingo, but most shorted it to just Mingo. I am happy to make your acquaintance," he greeted, taking her hand.

Esther stared at Becky and then back to the Cherokee, the shock not well disguised. She had thought that perhaps Becky had been exaggerating when she had said the Indian was cultured and educated.

"My father is English and I was educated at Oxford," he explained, as he had to do almost every time he encountered someone new.

Becky went to the fireplace and grabbed the kettle. "Why don't I make some tea and the two of you can get to know one another."

…..

"So have you talked to the Indian about this Cherokee justice that they want to enforce?" Saul asked.

Daniel shook his head. "No, I really haven't had the chance. I want him to meet you first, and I was waiting until he felt better. I don't want him to brood on it while he's feeling poorly."

"What?"

"As I said, he can be sorta stubborn at times," Dan explained. "Especially if he thinks that the situation is unfair. It's usually when he thinks someone else has be treated unjust, but I've seen him do things I wouldn't expect if he feels threatened."

The older man stomped his foot. "It was a misunderstanding, by God! I can't believe this is even an issue. I was protecting your wife. I thought you would be on my side."

"I am. But I have to respect the Cherokee laws as well if we are to remain at peace," Dan said calmly, trying to defuse the situation. "You are worrying too much about this. It's gonna be a spell before Mingo's gonna be able to travel to Chota. That's where this will take place. By that time, Mingo will have healed and the emotions will have past." The frontiersman smiled. "Now let's get to the hunt. If I come home empty-handed Becky's gonna be more than a mite upset."

…..

Becky could tell that Mingo was getting tired. He was starting to have difficulty following the conversation and was beginning to pant.

When Esther excused herself for a moment, the redhead sat next to him on the settee. "Would you like to lie down for a while? You promised not to over-exert yourself."

The Cherokee shot her a sideways glance and sighed in frustration. "Alright, Rebecca. I did agree to abide by your terms. I admit, I am fading somewhat."

She patted his arm in gratitude and empathy. "Do you need help?"

He shook his head. "No. Please let me have the satisfaction of putting myself to bed."

Becky smiled as he tottered toward his bedroom area.

When Esther returned, Dan's wife pulled her to the side. "Were you serious about wanting to help me?"

The woman nodded. "Absolutely. What do you need?"

"My children have been with the Anderson's for the past two days," Becky explained. " I'd like to spend some time with them and assure them that everything is okay and that Mingo is on the mend. I didn't want to leave him alone," she said, gesturing toward the guest bed. "Would you be willing to watch over him while I'm gone?"

Saul's wife nodded. "Whatever will help. I see he has retreated to bed."

"Yes," Becky agreed. "At my request. Let him rest for about an hour and then give him some of the broth that's simmering over the fire. He needs to eat, but don't force him if he's not agreeable."

"I think I can convince him," Esther smiled.

Becky smiled in return. "I'm grateful for your help. I should only be gone a couple of hours."

"Take as much time as you need," the woman replied. "We'll be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

Esther could hardly believe her luck. She had been left alone with the man that held her husband's life in his hands. As long as the Indian lived, Saul was subject to the law of his tribal vindication. But suspicions would be raised if the native suddenly turned up dead. It had to appear as if it were an act of nature; a sudden infection or wound mortification. Nothing that anyone could have anticipated.

The lady from Philadelphia shook her head with regret. She had spent over an hour talking with the Cherokee friend of the Boone's and she found him to be both interesting and intriguing. She still did not understand how someone with his education and upbringing could return to this country to live among the primitive savages and to accept their equally archaic ways concerning justice. Under different circumstances, he would have made a most engaging acquaintance.

The dark-haired woman smiled to herself. This was too easy, but she knew she had to be careful. A single light dose would not be enough. She needed to have access over several days. It needed to be subtle.

She dipped a cupful of the simmering broth from the pot and poured it into the mug. Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled out the small pouch containing a white, powdery substance that she had found in Cincinnatus' store room and then dumped it into the mug. After a quick stir she headed toward the Indian's bedside. Doing as Mrs. Boone had directed, she coerced the native into drinking the mug's entire contents.

…..

Becky had returned to the cabin a couple hours later having reassured her children that their Cherokee friend was doing well and that they would be allowed to return to their home sometime tomorrow. She had thanked Esther for staying with Mingo in her absence and was grateful that she had managed to convince the Cherokee to take nourishment on schedule.

She expected Dan to return soon. He would be tired and hungry after a long day, so she had prepared a hearty meal for him. She also knew that Mingo would have no interest in such a feast, so she poured another cup of broth into the mug.

The Cherokee looked up when he heard Rebecca approach. Shaking his head, he held up his hand as she came close. He was swallowing hard and covering his mouth with the back of his other hand. "Mingo, what's the matter?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

He swallowed a few more times before he could answer. "I think I am going to be ill."

"Oh," Becky gasped, quickly setting down the broth and picking up the wash basin from the bedside table. She held it under his chin as she helped him to sit up.

He continued to struggle to keep his stomach contents where they belonged, tears streaming down his face from the effort.

"Mingo," she said, using her free hand to pull his long hair away from face. "Don't fight it. I find that you often feel better once it's over."

He did fight for a couple more seconds before losing the battle and he violently vomited into the bowl in her hand. It seemed to go on forever, but since he had very little in his stomach, it quickly turned to gagging. Finally, he took a deep, painful breath and brought his head up.

"Do you feel like you're done?" Becky asked softly.

When he nodded, she set the basin in his lap and handed him a towel to wipe his face. "Here, take a sip of water and rinse out your mouth," she said, handing him the cup.

"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling poorly?" she chided.

The native shrugged. "I didn't realize I was. It came upon me quite suddenly."

Becky patted his shoulder gently. "Well, let me take this," she said grabbing the basin. "And I'll get you something to calm your stomach."

When she returned, he was leaning back against the pillows, a sad expression on his face. "Here," she said handing him a couple of mint leaves. "Chew on these. I find they help me when I'm under the weather."

He accepted them from her hand, but did not look up. "What's wrong? Do you still feel sick?"

The Cherokee shook his head. "I have disgraced myself. I am sorry that you had to witness that repulsive response to my nausea," he said quietly. He was obviously very embarrassed.

The redhead laughed. "For goodness sake, Mingo, I'm a mother. I've dealt with all sorts maladies. There is not much that repulses me anymore. You worry too much."

"Now," she said brightly. "Let me check your bandages."

She shook her head as she walked to the kitchen to retrieve the medical supplies. He would be absolutely mortified if he knew that in the midst of the worst of his fevered ramblings that first night, she and Dan had had to change his nightshirt and bed linens after he had wet himself. She wished that he would come to realize that it was not his fault. Sometimes these things just happened to people when they were sick or injured; even English-bred Cherokee warriors.

…..

The new morning started similarly to the previous. Mingo got himself out of bed and came into the main part of the cabin to sit with Daniel next to the fire.

"Feelin' better?" Dan asked. Becky had told him what had happened earlier the previous day. He had also both felt and heard his wife jump out of bed in the middle of the night when the Indian had had a bout of dry heaves.

"I am," Mingo replied. "Sorry, if I woke you."

The woodsman waved off the apology as unnecessary.

"Are you taking Saul out again today?" Mingo asked, regretting that he did not feel well enough to come along.

Dan nodded. "He mentioned that he enjoyed fishin'. Me and Seth Rogers are gonna take him up to Little Bone Creek."

The Cherokee nodded. "A good spot for trout. I envy you, even though right now the thought of fish makes me somewhat queasy."

"I thought you said you were feelin' better?" the frontiersman questioned.

Mingo smiled weakly. "I am. Just not exactly superb."

…..

Becky had arranged for Esther to escort the children back to the cabin when she returned. As exasperated as she sometimes was with Jemima and Israel when they bickered over minuscule matters, she had missed them both terribly.

She heard Israel coming down the path long before she saw him. "Ma!" he shouted when he saw his mother on the porch. She stepped into the yard as he ran to her and she hugged him tightly.

After a moment, the boy pushed her away. "Where's Mingo?"

"In the cabin. Mind his shoulder!" Becky warned as the youngster sprinted in that direction.

The red-haired woman hugged her daughter, and then thanked Esther for accompanying her offspring home.

The older woman smiled. "Happy to do so. I appreciate you tolerating my intrusion into your home while the men are away." She paused. "How is Mingo today?"

A deep frown came across Becky's face and she sighed. "He claims he is alright. He was quite ill yesterday afternoon, however."

"Really?" Esther asked with perceived nonchalance.

As Dan's wife nodded and told her of the previous day's events, the other woman tried to hide her smile. Yesterday's dosage must have been about right. That gave her the confidence she needed to up the ante today. With luck, the Indian would be dead by the end of the week. 

…..

"Maybe I can help?" Esther offered.

Rebecca was becoming frustrated with Mingo's refusal to eat. She knew that he had not been altogether truthful about how he felt and empathized that food had no appeal when one felt poorly. She truly understood; she had felt similarly when pregnant with Israel. But she had also forced herself to eat to keep up her strength.

"It can't hurt to try," the frontierswoman said with a sigh.

Esther took the mug of broth and surreptitiously poured in the contents of the small pouch from her pocket.

Mingo was sitting on the bench on the porch, enjoying being outside for the first time in almost three days. "I understand that you are being rather stubborn," Saul's wife stated as she sat next to him.

The Indian warily eyed the mug in her hand. "I am not trying to be so, but at the moment I find the smell of any food revolting."

The woman frowned. "Seems somewhat contrary to what you told me about being a Cherokee warrior."

"What?"

"You said that you were expected to endure all manner of trials, yet you refuse to honor Becky's request," she challenged. "Are you so afraid of embarrassing yourself that you will cause the woman who has tended you distress?"

Mingo flinched. "I did not realize."

"So are you brave enough to risk partaking of this broth that she has taken time to prepare for you?"

The Cherokee hung his head in shame. "Give it here," he sighed."One way or another I will get it down."

Esther smiled. For an educated man, he seemed to be exceptionally gullible.

…..

After Israel's continuous pleas, Mingo had agreed to watch and instruct the boy as he practiced with his bow and arrow. He had a pounding headache and his stomach was in knots; he feared that he would lose its contents at any moment.

"What'd I do wrong?" Israel asked when his arrow completely missed the target.

The Cherokee shook his head; he had not been paying attention. He was shocked to find that his mind had wandered elsewhere. "I must apologize, Israel. I am not as focused as I should be. I…," he suddenly doubled over as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his abdomen.

"Mingo?" the young boy asked, frightened to see his friend in such agony.

The Indian tried to calm his own nerves for the sake of the child. "Please, go get your mother," he gasped.

The youngster ran for the house as fast as his short legs would carry him.

"Ma!" Israel cried. "Ma! Come quick!"

Becky was busy in the kitchen preparing for the evening meal, but rushed to the door when she heard her son call out. She could tell from his tone that it was more urgent than his usual childish demands.

"Somethin's real wrong with Mingo," the boy cried. He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward their friend.

The frontierswoman was shocked to find the native kneeling on the ground, moaning loudly, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he spewed the meager contents of his lunch on the ground. With only a cursory glance, she realized that the situation had suddenly become significantly more serious.

Rebecca grabbed her son by the shoulders. "Israel, I need you to get Jemima and both of you go the fort and stay there, but send Cincinnatus back. And have Mrs. Gorman come help me. Can you do that?"

The boy nodded, tears welling up in his wide eyes. "It's going to be alright. Just do as I ask." the redhead said as calmly as she could, as she gave him a hug.

…..

Following their fishing expedition, Dan, Saul, and Seth Rogers had arrived back at the fort in early evening. They had decided to stop into the tavern for quick ale before heading their separate ways and found Charlie Doyle tending bar instead of Cincinnatus.

Doyle explained that Dan's children had come to the fort a couple of hours ago to fetch the tavern keeper because Mingo had become very ill. The frontiersman and Saul had exchanged worried glances and hurriedly made their way to the Boone cabin.

The sight that Daniel found when he entered his home was unnerving. Mingo lay on the bed, his eyes wide but unfocused. His body was jerking violently with convulsions and occasionally he would cry out in distress.

Cincinnatus caught the woodsman's eye and motioned with his head to follow him to the porch. "I don't know, Dan'l. It just don't make no sense."

Dan sighed, still somewhat in shock. "Is the wound mortifyin'?"

The wiry man shook his head. "No, and that's the strange part. The wounds look good, they're healin' up fine, even his breathin' was better, at least afore all this happened. He's sweatin' like a hound dog in the summer sun, but he's got no fever." He paused. "He's gettin' worse by the hour. I'm not sure he's gonna make it this time."

Saul's wife slipped past them carrying the water bucket. Things were mostly going according to plan. She may have given the Indian a little too much at one time, but he hadn't just dropped dead. The old man was just as perplexed as everyone else as to the cause.

On her way back to the cabin, Esther heard the men mention her husband's name and she stopped out of sight to listen. And what Daniel Boone said shocked her.

Dan rubbed his eyes with his hands. "Cincinnatus, I hate to even think about this, but we have got to have a plan in place in case Mingo dies. I've got to get Saul to Salem as quick as I can so I can protect him and you need to get everyone to the fort. Once the Cherokee find out, they are going to be out for blood. Menewa has already promised that if Mingo did die, Saul was going to pay for it with his life. And he meant it. They'll hunt us down until they kill him."

Esther rounded the corner, her eyes wide with fear. "What did you say?"

"Uh…Mrs. Gorman…I didn't know you were there," the woodsman stammered.

"Well, I was and I heard every word," she said, her voice trembling. "I thought you told my husband that it was Mingo's decision as to what would be the punishment from this so called Cherokee justice? Now you are saying that it is someone else? So you lied?"

Dan raised his hand to calm the woman and try to make her understand the situation. "I didn't lie. That was the case as long as Mingo lived, but it became his chief's decision if he didn't."

"So if that Indian dies," she said pointing to the cabin, "my husband is a dead man?"

"According to the Cherokee," Boone said.

Esther paled. "Oh God…."

"Now, let's not worry about it 'til somethin' happens," he said quietly.

Dan came to her side to put a reassuring hand on her arm, but she jerked away. "No, you don't understand. It was me. I did it. I poisoned the Indian."


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as Cincinnatus had heard the reason for the unexplained sickness, he began trying everything he could think of to purge the Cherokee of the poison in his system. At times, Becky had been near tears, wondering if the treatment wasn't worse than the toxin; especially when, during his semi-coherent moments, the native had begged for mercy and had pleaded with them to stop.

By midnight, everyone was exhausted. The tavern keeper said that he had done everything that he could do and that it was now the hands of God.

Earlier that evening, Dan had taken the Gorman's back to the inn and had put them under somewhat of a house arrest. He had recruited several men from the settlement to take turns guarding the door to their room. He really had no fear of the Philadelphians escaping, knowing that they would have no idea where to flee, but it made him feel better knowing that it was one less thing to worry about and that they would be properly cared for.

Afterward he had hurried back to the cabin and was surprised that several people had accompanied him; concerned for the Indian's welfare. Mingo had more friends in Boonesborough than both he and the Cherokee realized. As the vigil in the cabin continued, his friend lapsed into a coma.

…..

Mingo felt as if he was pushing to the surface after being deep underwater. When he emerged into the light, he could hear a rhythmic thump of what might be drums, the measured clack of wooden sticks and the soothing hum of a mother's lullaby. When he cracked opened his eyes, he saw Daniel's wife steadily swaying back and forth in the rocking chair, her hands deftly manipulating the knitting needles she held.

"Rebecca?" he questioned, unsure if she was real or an apparition.

Becky stopped and stared, her hand resting in surprise on her chest. "Mingo? Can you hear me?"

The native nodded slowly.

She brought her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out; there were tears shining in her eyes. "Oh thanks be to God. Welcome back."

…..

Later that afternoon, Daniel told his friend all that had happened. Mingo was shocked both by the events that had taken place and by the fact that he had been on the outer edges of the netherworld for almost two days.

"I want to talk to them, Daniel," the Indian requested. "I've never even met the man who shot me."

The woodsman shook his head. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You're pretty weak; I don't want you troublin' yourself with things that I can take care of for you."

"Daniel," the native said with increasing exasperation. "Is it not my right, in both Cherokee and White man's law, to confront the ones who have attempted to harm me? Do you intend to deny me of what is justifiably mine?"

The frontiersman held up his hand to halt the tirade. "Hold on. I'm not plannin' on keepin' you from speakin' with them. I just want to make sure that you're up to it. Mingo, whether you want to admit it or not, you've been pretty darn sick. I'm not rushin' to do anything and I don't think you should either."

The native suddenly waned. "Alright, Daniel. Just promise me that I will have my chance before you do anything without my consent."

The tall frontiersman sighed. 'I promise."

…..

The following day, Dan brought the Gorman's to his cabin to meet with Mingo. The native was still somewhat frail and obviously feeling the effects of all that he had been through in the past week; but he was determined to discover the real truth behind what had been done to him.

He had sent his woodsman friend away, wanting this private conversation to be without bias or accusation and to exclusively include only the people most directly involved.

When they were finished, the Cherokee asked to speak alone with Boone. "Daniel, I think I understand now all that has happened. We need to go to Chota."

The frontiersman's eyebrows arched in surprise. "I hate to be the one to point this out, but it's gonna be quite some time before you're gonna be able to travel across the road, let alone as far as your village."

The native shook his head. "No, we have to go now. Leaving things unresolved will only lead to further mistrust. I know I cannot walk that far, but I can probably ride a horse."

When Dan frowned, Mingo acquiesced.

"Alright, I may not be able to make it in a single day, but we can make camp if I cannot."

"Mingo," his friend said softly. "You know that Saul will still be under Menewa's scrutiny, but Esther will be the one in greater danger when he finds out what has happened. I have to take them to Salem for their own protection."

"Daniel, no," the native said struggling to sit up straighter in the bed. "Salem will result in a no-win situation. If Mrs. Gorman is tried and convicted, she will be put in prison or possibly hanged. If not, then it will be one more instance where the Redman cannot get justice in a White man's court."

"So you think that it would be better if she was tortured or put to death by the Cherokee?" Daniel countered. "That is only going to rile people in the settlement."

Mingo shook vehemently his head. "No! Hear me out. All of this has been a series of misunderstandings and misinformation," he said loudly.

His friend was starting to get upset and agitated, so Dan held up a hand to stop him. He grabbed a nearby chair and sat in it next to the bed. "Okay," he said calmly. "I'm listening."

The native took a deep breath and let it out slowly, realizing that his emotions were getting the better of him.

"It all starts with the Gormans being from Philadelphia or any other city, where they would have limited exposure to Indians. They developed a certain mindset based on only what they had heard from others. Then when they arrived at Fort Potterville, that mindset was further reinforced by what has been happening there between the settlers and the Choctaw. On the trail, they were confronted by natives who stole from them."

Mingo took a second to catch his breath before he continued. "When they asked about the situation in Kentucky, the Gormans were told that there were intermittent issues with the Shawnee and that it was rare for Indians to come near the settlement, but they found me in your cabin with Rebecca. I remember I was describing a serving bowl to her." To demonstrate, he held out his hands as he had that day. "Mr. Gorman thought I was going to harm her. When he yelled, he startled me and when I turned I knocked something from Rebecca's hands."

The frontiersman leaned back in the chair, rubbing his chin as he thought. "Alright, maybe I can buy that, but it still doesn't explain Esther."

His friend nodded and waggled his finger for emphasis. "I'm getting to that. This is where you come in. After you took Mr. Gorman to Chota, you told him that Cherokee law dictated that the injured party has the right to determine the punishment. However you deliberately, I am assuming, failed to inform him of what would happen if the injured party died; in this case that Menewa intended to retaliate in kind."

Dan nodded. "Yes, Saul was already mightily upset. I didn't want to worry him more."

"Based on that information," Mingo stated. "Mrs. Gorman, fearing for her husband's well-being if not life, assumed that if I was eliminated, that nothing more would come from the situation."

The woodsman gave a lopsided smile. "You make it sound like it's my fault."

"Not at all, Daniel," his friend hurriedly interjected. "As I said, a series of misunderstandings."

"I don't know, Mingo. Still seems awfully extreme on her part."

The native nodded. "As I thought when I didn't understand Mr. Gorman's motivation for shooting me."

Daniel sighed. "So what do we do now?"

"We go to Chota," the Cherokee concluded.

…..

Despite his misgivings, and Becky and Cincinnatus' strong objections, Daniel borrowed two horses for the trip to the Cherokee village.

Becky packed several bags of provisions, including one that contained only medical supplies. She was rather put out with her husband for agreeing to this journey, just as Mingo was finally on the mend, but he had reminded her that their Cherokee friend was an adult and could make his own decisions. It would only take a couple of days at the most or maybe even just one day, if the native's strength held out, to reach Chota. Then the Medicine Man, Pitapuni, could take charge over Mingo's care if need be.

The foursome slowly made their way along the trail that would take them into Cherokee country. Mingo and Mrs. Gorman each rode a horse, while Dan and Saul held the reins.

Occasionally, the native would grunt in pain if the horse took a step that shifted him in the saddle and Dan would turn back to see. Each time, his friend would defiantly pin him with the 'I'm fine' look.

However, by late afternoon, the Cherokee was looking less resolute.

"What do you wanna do here, Mingo?" he asked. They were still several miles from the village. If they stopped they would not make it before nightfall. If they didn't stop, Dan feared that his friend might fall out of the saddle.

Mingo glanced at the other two people traveling in their party. The Gormans were looking about as weary as he felt.

"Let's stop, Daniel," he said with a sigh. "We can make camp here and be to Chota by late morning."

The frontiersman nodded and helped the Indian slide off his mount. Mingo held on tightly to the horse's bridle in order to maintain his balance; a fact that did not go unnoticed.

"Why don't you sit down for a spell," Dan suggested quietly. He knew that his friend was not one who liked to show any sign of weakness. "You can keep Esther company while Saul and I set up camp." He watched Mingo ball his hand into a fist out of frustration at not being able to perform his usual duties, but in the end he simply nodded and made his way to the small clearing.

…..

Esther gasped when she saw the three natives slide from behind the trees and surround them. Her husband moved closer to her side to reassure her. He remembered the fear that had filled him when this had happened on his trip with Dan only a few days ago.

Mingo smiled and spoke to them in Cherokee. They nodded and one of the braves led them into the village.

Menewa stood beside his lodge carefully watching his warrior. Dan again helped Mingo off the horse and the native walked as steadily as possible to his chief.

"You are still unwell," Menewa said, a grim look on his face.

Mingo did not try to deny it. "Much has happened and we need to talk, but before, I would like permission for Daniel and the Gormans to use my lodge."

The chief stared at the visitors. Boone he knew well; the tall man had been to the village many times and called Mingo his brother. The other man he recognized as the one Boone had brought with him earlier – the one who had shot his warrior. The woman he had never seen.

Menewa nodded. "Boone may come and go as he wishes. The other two must have a guard at all times."

Mingo waved Daniel over to his side and explained the situation, and then he ducked into the chief's lodge.

…..

The tall woodsman led Saul and his wife to the teepee like lodge on the edge of the village. He pulled back the bearskin flap, but neither of the Philadelphians moved.

"What's this?" Esther demanded. "You don't expect us to go in there, do you?"

Dan nodded. "This is Mingo's home and yes, I do expect you to go in. He has offered to let us stay here while he is in council."

The dark-haired woman ducked down and entered carefully. To her surprise, it was larger than it looked from the outside. Bearskin rugs lined the floor around a small fire ring. A couple of brightly patterned blankets were neatly folded on top of a small steamer trunk along one edge. Next to it was a stack of books.

She started, however, when she looked to her left and saw the bow and arrows, spear, and shield. Daniel could not hide his smile. He had pulled Mingo's rifle and whip from the horse and set them next to the other weapons.

"You might as well sit down and make yourselves comfortable," the frontiersman said. "Or you can go outside if you prefer. Either way, it is likely to be a long day."

Esther had a look of disgust on her face as she gingerly lowered herself to the rug.

"What happens now?" Saul asked warily.

"Mingo will tell Menewa everything that has happened. His chief will then tell him what he thinks," Dan explained. "You might as well know up front that Menewa is gonna be very angry. He is more than just Mingo's chief; they are blood relatives."

The Gormans eyes grew wide. "After that Mingo will suggest to Menewa what he thinks will be fair punishment for both of you."

"Mr. Boone, this is absolutely insane!" Esther exclaimed. "You can't let these heathens go through with this!"

Dan shook his head. "As I recall, you, Mrs. Gorman, got yourself into this when you tried to murder my friend. It's time to pay the piper."

"What does he intend to do?" the older man asked, now fearing for his wife's safety. "You said you could talk the Indian out of this."

"I said I could probably talk him out of anything too farfetched," the woodsman reminded him. "That was before."

Saul was on his feet in an instant. "Tell me what he plans to do to my wife, Boone!"

Daniel shrugged. "I have no idea. He wouldn't tell me."

The Philadelphian reached down and grabbed his wife's hand. "Come on. We are getting out of here right now!"

Boone raised his hand. "I wouldn't try it. Those braves outside the door will kill you before you could take three steps."

…..

It was late afternoon before one of the braves stuck his head in under the flap of Mingo's lodge and motioned for them to follow. The older couple stared at Dan, but he indicated that they should go.

They were led to the large fire circle in the middle of the village. In the center of the ring was a tall wooden pole. Although there was currently no fire burning, Saul could see the char marks from previous blazes.

An exhausted looking Mingo was standing with his chief and another very old Indian. Dan recognized the old man as Tutanta, one of the tribal elders.

Leaving the Gormans standing where they were, the frontiersman walked around to stand next to his friend. "You doin' alright?" he asked quietly. The native nodded, but sighed deeply.

Suddenly, as if they had appeared out of thin air, braves and warriors completely surrounded the circle, blocking any avenue of escape. As Tutanta chanted in the ancient tongue of his ancestors, the couple clung to each other in fear.

When the elder was finished, Mingo cleared his throat. "As you have been informed, Cherokee law provides for a means of justice. I, as the injured party, have the right to choose whatever punishment I feel is both just and fair. My chief and the elder, can of course, ultimately overrule my decision. However, they have, quite reluctantly, agreed to abide by my wishes. As such, I have sentenced you both to spend the next two weeks here in Chota with me. During that time, you will live and work among my people and hopefully come to understand us as human beings, not merely as a group of vicious savages."

The Cherokee took a deep breath before continuing. He swayed slightly on his feet and Daniel reached out a hand to steady him. "All of this came about because of your lack of understanding of a culture different from your own. That ignorance led to mistrust, which in turn nearly caused me my life. My hope is to break down those preconceptions and for you to come to know me for who I really am."

"Do you understand and agree to the terms?" Mingo asked.

Saul stood up straight. "And what if we refuse to stay here?"

The Cherokee shook his head sadly. "Then Menewa will change his mind and I can assure you that his punishment will not be to your liking."

"Boone?" Saul implored.

The frontiersman shook his head. "Sounds more than fair to me."

Mingo tried again. "Do you agree?"

The couple stared at one another and then nodded their heads.

The native smiled. "Good. Onnasa will escort you back to my lodge and I will join you shortly."

The circle of Indians parted to allow the couple to be returned to the lodge. The frontiersman started to follow, but Mingo grabbed his arm. "Daniel, a moment please? I have a request."

His friend nodded. "Name it."

"Menewa would only accept my planned penalty if I would agree to spend the night in Pitapuni's lodge," Mingo said softly. "Can I impose upon you to stay with the Gormans tonight? I do not want them to be frightened."

"Yep, I'll stay." Daniel grinned. Considering how his companion was sometimes mistreated, he was often surprised at the depth of the Cherokee's compassion. "You've got a heap of forgiveness in you, my friend."

Mingo smiled wearily. "As Shakespeare so eloquently put it '…ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven'."

The End


End file.
